


Blank Slate

by sterica



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Ghost Derek, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterica/pseuds/sterica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most kids get their soulmate's name on their wrist on their eighteenth birthday. Stiles gets a stunningly attractive ghost who also happens to be a werewolf sitting on his bed. </p><p>Or, in which on your eighteenth birthday you receive your soulmate's name on your wrist, Scott was never bitten, Derek is dead and Stiles is pretty sure a dead werewolf cannot be his soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Nona, Happy 16th/12th Birthday!

When Stiles wakes up on the morning of his eighteenth birthday, his hands are shaking. He twists his body in order to view the time on his alarm clock and curses out loud when he sees that it's half six in the morning. The mark will appear exactly eighteen years after he was born, he's been told by books and teachers and family members. Trust Stiles' luck to have been born at two minutes to midnight. He's woken up in his excitement but there was literally no point in the whole thing because it's a Saturday, he has no plans until the evening and his mark is just under six hours away from appearing. With his Dad and Scott both working this morning, he has nothing to do. Sighing, he rolls over, determined to get back to sleep in order to make the time go faster.

He doesn't get back to sleep.

Five minutes after his idea of trying to fall asleep again he decides that the idea is absolutely worthless, it's not going to happen and that his time would be much better spent searching for a show to marathon on Netflix. Grabbing his laptop, he settles in to a marathon of Supernatural and doesn't move until he absolutely has to piss and grab some coffee (although hopefully not at the same time). As he waits for the kettle to boil he gets a text from Scott indicating that he's free from Deaton and wanting to hang out that has more exclamation marks than Stiles' bin has crumpled tissues. Stiles grins and shoots a text back, planning to meet him later in the afternoon so he does something productive with his birthday other than stare at his wrist in the hope that the name will appear early and marathon tv shows that, in his opinion, kind of went downhill after the fifth season. After his coffee and a bagel Stiles showers, gets dressed and heads out the door, starting to feel slightly nervous about the name of his soulmate appearing later. It's not that he doesn't want a soulmate— he's wanted someone to be with him for years— it's just that he's afraid of who it might be. He knows that soulmates are always a person's perfect match, the one person that will always love them until they die, but he can't help but worry that he will be someone who gets someone fifty years older than him or someone who has never seen Star Wars or someone that he is just fundamentally incompatible with. Logically, he knows that there is nothing to worry about, that soulmates are perfect for you by definition, but he can't stop thinking about all the possible outcomes.

Later, he wonders why the possibility of a name not even appearing on his wrist never crossed his mind. Maybe the worst possibility is always the worst because no one even dares think of it.

When he gets to Scott's house, all worries seem to disappear completely from his mind. Mama McCall has even baked him a cake and seems to sense his worries and keeps the conversation diverted from the mark for the hours that he spends there. When he realises that his Dad is off shift soon he says a quick thank you to both of them, a 'see you later' to Scott and heads home, waiting for his Dad and hoping that he gets some good presents. As soon as he leaves, a worry begins to settle in the back of his mind again. This time, he's not quite sure if it's going to go away.

.

Stiles knows that his Dad is concerned about the party. They both decided that it probably wasn't the best idea for Stiles' party to be held at his house, especially seeing as Stiles has insisted that he doesn't care if he's not twenty-one, he's finding out his soulmate's name and he wants to be drunk as he does so. Instead, it's going to be held at Scott's house and Melissa will be taking refuge elsewhere for the night. He's told his Dad multiple times that, no, he won't drink so much he passes out or vomits (although he's not totally sure on the vomit thing), he'll make sure that the party isn't so loud the cops get called (because that would probably be up there in the 'Top Ten Most Embarrassing Things To Ever Happen To Stiles Stilinski') and he won't let anyone drive home drunk. Before he walks out the door around eight he gives his Dad a one-armed hug, nods at the 'Your mother would be so proud of you.' and gets outside as fast as he can before he starts crying or something. Birthdays are harder than most days because his Dad always gives him that line and it sort of makes him happy and sad at the same time and although he appreciates it he doesn't know whether it hurts or helps him more.

Scott's outside ready to give him a lift and he climbs in the car and pretends that he doesn't want to look back at the house and just spend the night with his Dad. Then he realises that even that is a pretence in itself: he just wishes he could see his Mom on his birthday.

.

Stiles wouldn't exactly describe himself as popular, but he's definitely not the nerd he was three years ago. It's a mixture of Scott dating Allison and Stiles somehow becoming friends with Danny and Lydia and, by extent, Jackson, that has brought the two higher up the social ladder. To whatever measure Stiles is popular, there are definitely a lot of people filling up Scott's house and Stiles is extremely glad it's not being held at the Stilinski home because every single second Scott is panicking about something possibly getting broken. Stiles has been patted on the back more times than he thinks strictly necessary and he's beginning to wish it would just be two minutes to midnight already so that he can see his mark and maybe even know the person and find them straight away. A few years ago, he had wished for Lydia to be his soulmate. The idea is now laughable. She's one of his best friends and kissing her would be like kissing Scott; neither of which he wants to do. A while ago he had entertained the idea of Danny becoming his soulmate but when Isaac's name became evident on the boy's wrist, Stiles had realised that it wasn't even what he wanted in the first place; Danny had just been the only out gay guy Stiles knew of at the time.

To be honest, despite the idea that it would be great if his soulmate were someone he already knew and therefore easy to find, Stiles kind of likes the idea of a challenge, like in all the films he sees. Although unlikely, his soulmate could live in Australia or Antarctica or Sweden or Burkina Faso. They might not speak the same language. Although tricky, it's the kind of romance that Stiles pretends he hates but really has a huge soft spot for. Maybe he'll have to take a road trip to find the guy or girl he's searching for. There's always the possibility of an age gap too. He may have to wait some years until his soulmate turns eighteen and wait for them to find him, instead of the other way round. To be honest, he doesn't want to wait to have to find his soulmate. He wants a quest, but he kind of wants them there for him too. It's nothing he could say aloud because everyone would just ridicule him for being a hopeless romantic and tonight all he wants to do is get pissed and find a beautiful name tattoo itself across his wrist.

It's funny how many soulmate couples Stiles sees around him: Scott has found Allison and the two of them are snogging in a corner. Although Scott isn't eighteen yet, Allison found Scott's name on her wrist just over a month ago and neither had seen the point in waiting for the name to appear for him. There's Jackson and Lydia, which Stiles still doesn't quite understand, and Danny and Isaac sending covert looks at each other because Isaac hasn't turned eighteen yet and Danny is a traditionalist but everyone knows that all the two want is to get together already. Erica and Boyd lurk in the corner, Boyd's eyes scanning the crowd for those that leer at Erica in her short skirt and Erica whispering in her soulmate's ear words that no one can make out but Stiles is sure that she's reassuring him. Not for the first time, it strikes Stiles how almost everyone seems to have someone and he's just sort of… there. Tonight, though, it could all change. He just hopes his soulmate is already out there, staring at their tattoo and waiting for Stiles as eagerly as he is waiting for them. He surrounds himself with friends and dances, shouts and laughs and keeps peeking at his wrist, knowing that this is the last time he will see it bare.

When it gets to five to midnight, Scott turns off the music. Whispering begins in the room and all eyes turn to Stiles. He realises that they're all waiting for something to be said and so he allows Lydia to help him up onto a table, stumbling slightly, and hopes that he leaves no noticeable marks before beginning.

"Uh… hey." Stiles is pretty sure that that isn't the best way to start any speech. "I have three minutes so I'll make it quick. Thanks for being here." he says, looking round at all his friends and sending a glare at Jackson who is fake snoring and leaning against a wall. "Thanks for not completely wrecking Scott's house and for not getting the cops called on us, because that would have been awkward." A pause. There's a laugh from the crowd but Stiles is sure that's more about the fact that almost everyone there is pissed out of their minds than the fact that it's funny. "If my soulmate is here and you find out when the name appears you have my full permission to, uh, drag me upstairs."

He raises a shot glass pressed into his hand by Lydia and downs it, really hoping that he can get down from the table in some sort of dignified way. "Time check?" he calls out.

"Three minutes to." Lydia says from his shoulder.

Stiles braces himself, knowing that there's only one minute to go. Scott is standing next to the table, smiling up at him. Erica raises an eyebrow at him and Danny and Isaac raise their glasses at him across the room. Across the room, a chant starts up, Stiles standing on the table, heart beating so painfully fast that it feels as though it's about to fly out of his chest.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six..." The chant goes on and Stiles can feel his legs shaking. He raises his wrist up, staring at it intently, not caring at all how he looks, even as cameras go off and he smiles nervously towards them. "Five, four, three, two, one!"

Stiles has been told that it hurts slightly as the tattoo makes its way across your skin, but he feels absolutely nothing. The room is silent, staring his way. Everything seems to move in slow motion, Scott moving his head to look up at Stiles, everyone staring towards him, waiting for him to call out a name. Stiles wants to call out a name with all of his being, he wants to party with his classmates and friends because he's eighteen and a tattoo should be on his wrist with someone's name on it. But there is nothing there. As always, as it has been for eighteen years, his wrist is merely a blank slate. Stiles is beginning to worry that it will remain that way forever.

As time passes, it becomes evident what is happening.

"Dude, what does it say?" Scott asks, sounding concerned.

"Nothing." he says quietly. "Nothing." he says louder, not caring about keeping it a secret. Everyone will find out sooner or later.

He stares at his blank wrist and gets down from the table, almost dropping to his knees but instead heads of the front door and begins walking, ignoring the calls from his friends and trying to ignore the salty sting of tears already making their way down his face.

.

It doesn't take long for Scott to catch up with him. It's cold and he's drunk and both of those things impact his ability to walk fast and so, with Scott running behind him, it doesn't take long for him to catch up. Stiles is alerted to Scott's presence by the sound of his heavy breathing.

"Dude, inhaler." Stiles says, not even looking over his shoulder. "You having an asthma attack because of me would really not improve my night."

He keeps walking as Scott inhales deeply, his friend a few steps behind him.

"Will you at least talk to me?" Scott asks.

"What's there to talk about?" Stiles fires at him, stopping on the spot and turning to face his friend. "Unlike every other eighteen and over person in the world, I haven't got a mark on my wrist. I've been looking forwards to this for years and I get absolutely nothing." He raises his wrist and shows it to Scott. "Nothing. I don't want to talk to you right now because you have Allison and you're not ever going to know how this feels." He cuts himself off before he says something horrible to Scott that he regrets.

"Can I at least walk you home?" Scott asks.

"Yeah." Stiles says, figuring that he's drunk enough that it's probably safer for Scott to be with him.

The two of them walk home in silence and Stiles hardly acknowledges his friend as he walks inside of his house. His Dad is sitting at the kitchen table, waiting up for his son. At the look on his son's face he sweeps across the room and grabs his wrist.

"Nothing." Stiles says. "Dad, I don't have anyone."

His attempt to hold back his sobs is worthless and he allows his Dad to hug him and even though it doesn't help the situation at all, he feels less alone. When they finally tear apart, his Dad stares at him with a kind of acknowledgement and empathy in his eyes.

"I know that you probably don't want to talk to anyone right now, but I'm always here, okay?" Sheriff Stilinski tells him. "I lost your Mom and although I don't know much about this particular situation, I know what it's like to be without your soulmate."

Stiles wants to yell at him, tell him that he's not even without his soulmate, it's just that he doesn't have one, but he doesn't have the energy anymore. He takes one last look at his Dad before forcing a smile onto his face and walking up the stairs, determined to throw himself onto his bed and cry until he passes out or something. He suddenly regrets getting drunk because now each emotion is so much more defined and he's so much less in control of absolutely everything.

"Love you, Stiles." the Sheriff calls up the stairs.

"Thanks, Dad." Stiles yells back, walking into his room and then slamming the door shut and staring at what he sees.

There is a man sitting on his bed.

.

As if the fact that a man is sitting on Stiles' bed wasn't shocking enough, this man is also stunningly attractive. He looks like he's come straight out of some men's underwear catalogue or maybe even a porno and Stiles can't tear his eyes away. As well as attractive, he's also quite menacing and for a moment Stiles wonders if the man is going to leap off the bed and brutally murder him. He has dark hair and just the right amount of stubble and if Stiles had to describe him the words 'the world's most attractive serial killer' would probably come into mind.

"Uh, hi?" Stiles says, realising that the man has not acknowledged his existence.

The man looks up, seemingly unperturbed by Stiles' appearance. "Hi."

Stiles just stares at the man, wondering why he has made no reference to the fact that he is a complete stranger and sitting on his bed. "Not to be awkward or anything, but why are you sitting in my bed?"

"I'm your soulmate." is the response that Stiles gets.

Quite honestly, the words feel like a stab to the gut for Stiles. It's hard enough to have just found out in a room full of his friends that he doesn't have a soulmate, harder still for a guy he never knows to have already found out and seemingly there to make fun of him.

"I don't have a soulmate." Stiles says, showing his bare wrist to the man.

"Oh." the man says. "I'm dead."

Stiles stares at the man in complete shock. "My soulmate is dead?"

The man stares at him as though he's stupid. "Yes, idiot, I'm dead and I'm your soulmate, both of which I have mentioned and both of which make it the truth that your soulmate is dead."

Stiles glares at the man. "No offence, but how are you meant to be my soulmate if you're dead? Like…" he trails off, not wanting to say what he's thinking aloud.

"You can't fuck a ghost?" the man puts forwards in a mock-helpful way.

"Exactly. Also, how can I be sure you're my soulmate?"

The man beckons him closer and, against his better judgement, Stiles comes and sits down next to the man on the bed. His leg touches the man's leg and he feels absolutely nothing.

"Dude, I can't even touch you!" Stiles says in awe. "You really are a ghost."

The man shuts him up by showing him his wrist. Written across it in Stiles' handwriting is a name that Stiles has tried for years to pretend he doesn't have, followed by the name 'Stilinski'.

"You can call me Stiles." Stiles tells the man. "Like, seriously, if you use that name I will decapitate you. But who are you?"

"Derek Hale." comes the immediate reply.

The name rings a bell and a flash of recognition crosses Stiles' face which obviously does not go unnoticed by Derek. The man shrugs. "Google it. You'll have heard of me."

Stiles grabs his laptop and tries to ignore Derek's judging eyes as he sees a paused Supernatural episode on his screen. He goes to Google and types in the name. The first thing that comes up is an article about an ex-marine called Derek Hale and he turns to the man, an expectant look upon his face but Derek just shakes his head.

"Try putting in Beacon Hills after it." Derek suggests.

When the results come up, Stiles just stares at his screen, unable to look at Derek.

"The Hale Fire." he whispers. "You died in there?"

"No." Derek tells him quickly. "My whole family did."

"I'm so sorry." Stiles says. The question on the tip of his tongue ('Then how did you die?') refuses to come out. Stiles knows it would be completely insensitive to ask it now and all he wants to do is to put his arm around Derek or hug him but whenever he leans towards the man he remembers that he will literally go straight through him and he can't imagine that being a pleasant experience for either of them.

"I was shot a few years later." Derek says. "Wolfsbane bullet."

"I'm sorry, what?" Stiles asks, mind whizzing and leading him down paths that he really doesn't want to go down.

"I didn't mention, did I?" Derek asks. "I'm a werewolf."

"There is literally a dead werewolf sitting on my bed." Stiles groans. "I feel like this is a metaphor for my life somehow."

"I can leave…" Derek says, raising an eyebrow.

"No, don't do that." Stiles says. "Uh, would you like to explain to me about werewolves?"

"Not particularly." Derek deadpans. Stiles stares at him. "But I will anyway."

.

Just under an hour later, Stiles knows everything he needs to know. It's strange thinking it over in his head because he's just coming to terms with the fact that a) his soulmate is a werewolf, b) his soulmate is a dead werewolf and c) his soulmate wants him to bring him back to life. The last part is the thing that scares him the most and he replays the conversation in his mind.

"No offence, but how are we supposed to be together if you're, you know, dead?" Stiles asks.

"You're going to bring me back to life." Derek says, as though stating the obvious.

"Oh, of course." Stiles says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "May I ask exactly how we're going to do that?"

"You're going to have to talk to my Uncle." Derek sighs. The expression crossing the werewolf's face doesn't really make Stiles happy about the idea.

Stiles stares at the werewolf and internally groans. "I'm getting the feeling that you don't like your Uncle very much and that I won't either. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No." Derek says. "But do you really want to live the rest of your life alone?"

The words sting and a flash of hurt crosses Stiles face. It's not his fault that his soulmate is dead, not his fault that no mark appeared on his wrist. He suddenly feels intense anger towards the man and simply glares at him, not having the words to express how he's feeling.

"I'm sorry." Derek says. "I have to go now."

Stiles turns to stare at the ghost-werewolf. "You can't leave me now." he says. "You literally just told me I'm bringing you back to life and that your Uncle is a douche and I will hate him and that it's not a good idea and I'm kind of freaking out now."

He can feel his breathing beginning to be unsteady and he can feel a panic attack coming on. He tries to deepen his breathing, do anything to stop panicking because he's pretty sure there is nothing a dead werewolf can do to help him and that leaves his Dad and if Sheriff Stilinski worries about Stiles any more than he already does Stiles will probably never leave the house again.

"It's going to be okay." Derek says, floating through Stiles and spreading warmth through him, restoring his breathing and leaving the boy completely shocked, but breathing. By the time Stiles has recovered enough to see, Derek has gone.

He focuses on his breathing and doesn't really think about falling asleep until he wakes the next morning to his Dad's head round the door and he realises that the sympathetic smile he's receiving is not the first and will definitely not be the last.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek appears at inappropriate times, Stiles goes to visit Peter and Scott is definitely not Batman.

Stiles stays in bed for an hour. After his Dad has left for work and Stiles has reassured him that he's fine and he doesn't need any company, he lies back in his bed and waits for about five minutes before he's leaning over to his bedside cabinet and grabbing tissues and lube. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't jack off to the thought of Derek, to the thought of the werewolf's weight pressing into him and his stubble grazing Stiles' cheek. He's not going to mention it to anyone anyway because he doesn't think he's going to tell anyone about Derek seeing as there is supposed to be no such thing as ghosts or werewolves and to have a soulmate who is both is not really something Stiles wants to have to explain right now. He'll tell people eventually, of course, but he wants to figure things out with Derek before he sets anything in stone by telling anyone. 

Of course, there is always the possibility that Stiles has gone mad and is hallucinating the whole thing. With Derek gone, it actually seems more probable than Stiles' soulmate being a dead werewolf. The Fates are supposed to get everything right, to find your perfect match and make sure that you're both alive at the same time. They never make anyone suffer like that. Except, apparently, Stiles Stilinski. 

After Stiles has done jerking off and thinking about Derek and thinking about the failure of his life as a whole, he gets up. Deciding a shower will clear his mind, he jumps in and washes his hair, realising too late that it's only in movies that showers make people realise how to sort out their problems. All the shower makes Stiles is clean. Also, naked, which is kind of awkward when he gets out and Derek is leaning up against the sink. 

"Woah, dude!" Stiles yells as he gets out of the shower, slipping on the floor and almost landing on his ass. He grabs his towel and wraps it around his hips, glaring at Derek. "Have you heard that it's rude to wait in someone's bathroom while they shower?"

"Haven't heard that one, no." Derek says. "I'll keep that in mind next time."

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asks, exasperated. 

Derek frowns. "I'm your soulmate."

"Yeah, you're beginning to become my soul _hate_." Stiles says. 

All his words get him are a raised eyebrow and a lifetime's worth of regret. 

"Okay, okay." Stiles raises his hands in mock-surrender. "That was awful. But being my soulmate does not give you an excuse to spy on me in the shower!"

"I didn't look, if that's what you're worried about." Derek says, lips twitching slightly. 

Stiles looks impatient, "Can you wait in here while I get dressed?" he asks. "I have a feeling that this conversation is better held not in a towel."

Derek nods and Stiles heads through to his bedroom, throwing on clothes as quickly as possible. Derek is his soulmate but all that he does is make him feel aggravated and want to punch the guy in the face which he can't even do because Derek doesn't have the luxury of being a solid entity. Just as he's about to call Derek through, the ghost appears on his bed, legs stretched out across the carpet. 

"I could've been naked!" Stiles reprimands the man. 

"You weren't, though." Derek says. 

"Yeah, not this time." Stiles says dryly. 

After a pause in the conversation, Stiles decides to let the matter go but makes a mental note to decide on some boundaries for the two of them later. He sits next to Derek on the bed, avoiding sitting too close because the whole 'going through Derek' thing still freaks him out, even if it stopped him from having a panic attack last night. 

"So, are you here for the sole reason that you're my soulmate?" Stiles asks. "Because that's a fact, not a reason."

"I'm here to talk about my Uncle Peter." Derek tells him. 

"The evil one?" Stiles asks. "The one who is a werewolf and could probably kill me?"

"He's an Alpha werewolf," Derek corrects him, "And he could definitely kill you." 

Stiles stares incredulously at the man. "Wow, way to make me think this plan is awesome."

"It's the only one I have." Derek tells Stiles. "You don't have to bring me back to life, you know. But I am your soulmate."

"To be honest, you're not making me like you very much." Stiles say. "You're basically a Greek God looks wise but other than that I really don't see what makes us so compatible." 

"We haven't killed each other yet." Derek puts forward. 

"We can't touch each other." Stiles says, mocking Derek's factual tone of voice. "That kind of stops the whole killing thing." 

"I need you to visit Peter." Derek says. 

Stiles sighs. "Fine. Where does he live?" 

Turns out, Peter lives in a creepy house in the middle of the woods. Stiles' life is turning out to be the most cliché non-cliché ever. After thinking that through in his head Stiles can't quite decide if it would make sense to anyone but him. He writes down the directions Derek gives him and tries to think of a way he can relate Derek's message to Peter without sounding like an escaped patient from a mental asylum. 

"So, you can't come with me?" Stiles asks. "Like, for protection?"

"No. I'm tied to your house." Derek says. "You're the only one that can see me anyway, I'd be no help."

"If he kills me, I will murder you." Stiles says before leaving his bedroom and slamming the door on Derek. 

Grabbing the keys from his kitchen counter, he feels a presence behind him. Spinning around fast, he sees Derek right behind him. 

"Don't forget to be polite to him." Derek says. "That way you're less likely to get your throat ripped out."

"Really making me excited for this trip, Derek." Stiles says, his voice an octave higher than usual. "Really looking forwards to my possible imminent death." 

Without looking back at Derek, Stiles walks out the door and pretends that his hands aren't shaking as he starts up his jeep. He won't die. Hopefully. 

. 

The Hale house is even creepier than described. It doesn't help that it is pretty obvious that it burnt down years ago and not much has been done to fix it since. Stiles clutches his car keys tightly in his hand. He wants to turn back, but he promised Derek he'd at least try and get some information from Peter. As much as he tells the ghost that he hates him, Stiles really doesn't fancy living the rest of his life alone. Then again, he doesn't exactly fancy dying, but you can't always get what you want. As he steps closer to the house, his phone vibrates. Willing to do anything to delay going into the house, he picks it up. 

"Hey, Scott." he says. 

"Dude!" Scott's voice comes from the other end. "Where are you?" 

"Long story." Stiles says. "Where are you?"

"Outside your house." Scott says. "Actually, I'm kind of in your house."

Stiles groans. "I really regret giving you that spare key."

"Whatever, anyway, Stiles, I came to cheer you up!" Scott says. "I have food."

Stiles is really tempted to say 'Yeah, and I have a soulmate to resurrect' but he doesn't think that right now is the best time to break the news to Scott that he's not actually soulmate-less. Or, maybe not. Maybe Stiles is hallucinating the whole thing and Derek was just a figment of his imagination. Peter Hale will not be real or will realise he's crazy and kill him on sight. Stiles tries to stop thinking about it because he kind of really doesn't want to die today. 

"I'm kind of busy right now, Scott." Stiles says. 

"Busy? You're never busy." Scott says. 

That's kind of true, but it still stings. But Stiles does tend to do everything with Scott. On occasion, he hangs out with people when Scott is off with Allison but most of the time he's home waiting for Scott to be available or with Scott. It’s kind of sad, really, if you think about it. 

"I am now. It's important." Stiles says. "If I'm not dead I'll be home in, like, an hour?" 

"This sounds dangerous." Scott says. "Do you need me to come along?"

"No offence, Scott, but I'm the Batman in this relationship." Stiles says. 

Scott seems to consider that for a second. "No, you're Robin." he says. "Just, don't do anything stupid."

"No promises." Stiles says before hanging up on his best friend. He loves him to death, but sometimes you've just got to ignore your best friend in order to talk to a creepy werewolf in an abandoned house. It’s just one of those things.

Tucking his phone into his pocket, Stiles walks forwards and tries to ignore the eerie sounding creak as he eases open the door and makes his way into the Hale house. 

. 

From the moment he walks in, Stiles can tell that the house is not uninhabited. He can feel a presence lurking in the corners. Someone is watching him. He can feel it like he feels Derek when he’s around him, but this feeling is darker, something that sends a shiver down his spine and wants him to back away from the house, go and find Scott and pretend he was never at the house. But Stiles won’t let himself back down. 

“Hello?” he calls out into the darkened house, regretting it the moment his voice echoes back at him. He doesn’t back down. “I’ve got a message from Derek Hale.”

The feeling in the house seems to change and Stiles can feel anger almost vibrating from the walls. He squints slightly and then realises that what he can see in front of him is two eyes glowing red. He stumbles back, hand flying out to stop him from falling over completely and he find himself backed up against a wall. He becomes aware of the fact that he’s almost petrified with fear and he tries to breathe, tries to remind himself that it’s okay. If he panics, it’s all over. He reminds himself what he’s doing this for, the reason that he’s in a house with an Alpha werewolf who could kill him. He certainly doesn’t love Derek, but he’s drawn to him in a way he cannot describe. It’s funny that he’s only seen Derek twice, arguing with him both times, but he’s already risking his life for the ghost. 

"Who are you?" Peter Hale booms from the top of the stairs. 

Stiles pretends that he's not absolutely terrified. "Stiles." he says, ignoring the quiver in his voice. "I need to talk to you about Derek Hale."

"He's dead, you moron." 

"The ghost of a fucking werewolf appears in my house and tells me he's my soulmate and that I have to bring him back to life and you're telling me?" Stiles says dryly. "I've kind of had a crazy two days, man. Help me out a little here?"

It's only after Stiles stops talking that he remembers Derek's warning to be polite to Uncle but it's kind of too late then so Stiles braces himself for the inevitable werewolf attack. To his surprise, Peter laughs. 

"You and I are going to need to have a chat." Peter says, jumping down the stairs and making Stiles quiver against the wall. He steps closer to Stiles, eyeing him up and down as best as anyone could in the darkness. 

"I can't wait." Stiles replies. 

. 

"What took you so long?" Scott asks as Stiles walks into his kitchen. He's still jumpy from his meeting with Peter and so he yelps a little bit as Scott takes him by surprise. 

"Jesus, Scott." he says, pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair. "You scared the shit out of me."

Scott is sitting at the table, slumped back on a wooden-backed chair and surrounded by food. Stiles moves towards his friend and grabs some of it, knowing that it probably took a great deal of self-restraint for Scott not to eat everything before Stiles arrived. 

“Seriously, man.” Scott begins. “Where were you?” 

Stiles takes a seat. For a moment, he considers telling Scott everything. He could tell Scott about Derek and the fact that he’s a dead werewolf and he could explain his conversation with Peter that pretty much led him absolutely nowhere and they could somehow turn Stiles’ awful life into something vaguely resembling humour. Scott could make it seem better. He’s just about to open his mouth and confess everything when Derek appears about an inch in front of him, causing Stiles to choke on the chips he’s just put in his mouth. 

“Don’t tell him.” Derek says. He doesn’t sound angry, but concerned. It stirs something up in Stiles that he’d rather not think about because he doesn’t want to be fantasising about a dead werewolf whilst his friend is literally sitting across from him. 

Stiles manages to swallow the chips and ignores Scott’s confused look. “I’ll tell you later, man.” Stiles says. He doesn’t know when what Derek said started to actually affect him but he thinks that Derek’s probably right. 

The ghost is still standing in front of him, arms folded, eyebrows raised. Stiles rolls his eyes at the werewolf and tries to ignore him whilst shooting him looks that scream at the man to go away. 

“Allison wanted to invite you to a party next week.” Scott breaks the silence. Stiles doesn’t really care but he dives into the conversation, constantly shooting looks back at Derek as the werewolf’s eyes are glued on Stiles. It’s creepy and disturbing but Stiles can’t say anything without freaking Scott out. 

“We need to talk, Stiles.” Derek says suddenly when Stiles is in the middle of discussing the pros and cons of inviting Jackson to parties.

Stiles keeps his focus on Scott and pretends that Derek isn’t there, hoping that the man will get the message that he isn’t wanted at the current time. A few minutes go by in which Derek keeps sullenly glaring at Stiles and Stiles pretends that he doesn’t want to stare at his possible soulmate before Derek speaks again. 

“Seriously.” Derek says, “Kick the kid out and talk to me about Peter.” 

Stiles stands up suddenly, scraping his chair back against the floor. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” he says to Scott before quickly leaving the room, not having to turn around to know that Derek is following him. He tries not to make it obvious that he's angry at something because all that will accomplish is making Scott confused. 

When he gets into the bathroom, he locks the door and slams himself against it. When Derek floats through him to enter the bathroom a shiver goes down his spine. It’s not an unpleasant feeling, actually. It does take a little getting used to, though, and Stiles is in a place where he doesn’t really know if he wants to get used to it. 

“Dude, you can’t just show up whenever and expect me to talk to you!” Stiles groans. “I have a life, you know.”

“Really tactful to say that to the dead guy.” Derek retorts. 

“Whatever, man.” Stiles sighs. “Look, you can’t do this to me. I have to keep up appearances otherwise everyone is going to think I’m mental. I like you, Derek, and I’ve already risked my life for you today but you have got to start making me believe that you’re worth it!” 

“I’m not doing this for me, Stiles.” Derek growls. “You really think that this is an ideal situation for me? I was fucking fine being dead. Then you turn eighteen and the universe, or the Fates, or whatever decide that I need to come back to make sure you get your happy ever after.” The werewolf pauses, eyes burning into Stiles. “Why should I give a shit about your happy ever after? Maybe I don’t want to be alive again. Did you ever think about that? I’m doing this for you. Don’t treat me like some disposable toy that you can throw into your closet when you’re busy with something else.” 

“Oh, man.” Stiles says. “I get that, I really get that. But I need time away from you, too. Scott’s my best friend, I need to talk to him sometimes and get away from this whole dead werewolf soulmate bullshit.”

“You haven’t even known me for a full day, Stiles.” Derek snarls. “If you can’t handle that then I really can’t see us being together for the rest of our lives.”

“No, Derek, neither can I.” Stiles snaps. “So why don’t you fuck off back to the Underworld or wherever you came from? Because I am so not in the mood for talking to you right now.”

Derek turns away from Stiles and for a moment the boy feels a sharp pang in his chest, like his soul is being ripped away from him. Stiles stares at Derek’s back and realises that he barely knows the man that is standing right in front of him, that they have only known each other for about sixteen hours, but he wants him. He wouldn’t use the word love, but there’s something there that he wants to reach towards, something locked inside of Derek that Stiles thinks he has the key to. It’s cheesy as fuck and it’s exactly the kind of thing Stiles would fake-vomit at if Scott said it about Allison but he thinks he’s beginning to understand. 

“Look.” Stiles says, trying to calm down his voice. “Peter says it’s possible. You can come back to life. Because we’re soulmates, there’s something in me that you’re tied to and somehow that’s gonna do some creepy shit that brings you back to life.” Stiles pauses, his body still pressed against the door. “Look, I know I’ve been shitty but I’m not the only one. We need to work out some things, man.” 

Derek is still facing away from Stiles but the boy thinks he can see the tension in Derek’s muscles disappear as he begins to relax. 

“I need to figure some things out.” Derek says. He turns around and manages a slight smile in Stiles’ direction. “See you tomorrow, Stiles.” 

Before Stiles can utter another word, Derek is gone. 

. 

Stiles isn’t quite sure what the appropriate reaction to your soulmate who happens to be a dead werewolf saying ‘I need to figure some things out.” is, but he’s pretty sure that it calls for panic, desperation and general re-evaluation of life. He’s freaked out by Derek’s existence and everything the werewolf says just confuses Stiles even more. 

Every time Derek leaves, Stiles feels like a part of him has been torn away. Stiles feels exasperated and screwed with and he hates it. Derek shouldn’t be able to have such an effect on him, but he does. After his third encounter with Derek, Stiles feels unsettled, off-balance. He spends the rest of the day with Scott and falls back easily into conversation with him but he keeps hearing Derek’s words over and over in his mind, torturing him endlessly as he tries to focus on other things. 

Being around Derek fills Stiles with elation and anger simultaneously. It lifts him up and then throws him back down and the problem is that Stiles doesn’t know if he can cope with being jolted around so much for the rest of his life. Stiles knew that life with your soulmate isn’t supposed to be easy, he’d always been told that, but the problems he was expecting were stupid fights over who finished off the milk and put the carton back on the fridge, or forgetting an anniversary. His problems seem huge and insurmountable and he knows that maybe he needs to stop worrying and just get on with things, but he can’t. What he didn’t tell Derek in the bathroom is that seeing Peter Hale really shook him. Stiles was shaking throughout the whole conversation and he can still feel the chill that spread throughout the house as the Alpha werewolf spoke. Stiles wants to bring Derek back to life, but he’s not happy about Peter Hale having to help them do it. His life was never supposed to be that dangerous. 

That night, Stiles lies awake for hours. He doesn’t pretend that Derek is lying beside him and he definitely doesn’t wish that he was, because that would be dumb and cliché and Stiles is neither of those things. He thinks of what a strange position he’s in. A few days ago, he was just another guy who hadn’t reached eighteen yet. Now, he’s the guy who everyone thinks has no soulmate but in fact does have one and is trying to bring him back from the dead. 

He tosses and turns in bed all night, worrying about going back to school the next day. His life is so royally fucked up and he hates himself for thinking it, but as he drifts off in the early hours of the morning, he's thinking to himself that everything that is going on will make a good story for the grandkids.

**Author's Note:**

> next chapter will hopefully be up next week. in the meantime you can check me out on tumblr at baubleboyd


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